


lost my senses, i’m defenceless

by damipussycomplex



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alpha Tim Drake, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Biting, Damian Wayne is Nightwing, Drug-Induced Sex, Face Slapping, Intersex Omegas, Knotting, Lactation Kink, M/M, Male Lactation, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Name-Calling, Non-Consensual Bondage, Omega Damian Wayne, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Pregnancy Kink, Reverse Robins, Threatened Body Modification, Tim Drake is Red Hood, Watersports, jay is mentioned but as robin and only in like two sentences, tim drake is a gross creepy stalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:33:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25700635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damipussycomplex/pseuds/damipussycomplex
Summary: Ra’s al Ghul gave Tim a whole new life, showed him how easily he was replaced by the little street rat Bruce picked up, howeasilysaid street rat was accepted by Damian, who didn’t even bothertryingto be a big brother to Tim.It’s only right that Tim returns the favour by breeding Ra’s’ omega bitch of a grandson and giving him an heir. That’s the only reason he’s doing this.Well, there’s also the added bonus of seeing just howprettyDamian looks as Tim slowly breaks him.
Relationships: Tim Drake/Damian Wayne
Comments: 16
Kudos: 204





	lost my senses, i’m defenceless

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! finally finished this but here you go!

Tim barely reacts when he hears the soft thud of feet landing on the rooftop just behind him, followed by the low rumble of a threatening, angry growl. He doesn’t even turn to acknowledge it, just stays sat down, legs dangling over the edge of the building with his helmet in his lap. 

He’d honestly expected this confrontation to happen a little later. Damian wasn’t supposed to arrive for at least another four minutes, but he is the son of Batman, as he’d always reminded Tim before his untimely death, and has always been extremely skilled for an omega. 

“Did you touch him?” Damian demands, and Tim sighs before getting to his feet and turning around to face him. Damian looks furious, and Tim can’t help but give him a quick once over, admiring how well the Nightwing getup clings to the soft curves and hard planes of his body. 

“ _Hood._ Answer me,” Damian says, fingers tightening around his escrima sticks. Tim’s mouth curls into a smirk as he places his hands on his hips and just shrugs. He can actually _see_ all of Damian’s muscles tensing up, getting ready for a fight as Damian goes from furious to livid. 

“Maybe,” he says nonchalantly, and Damian’s scent blocker isn’t enough to mask the smell of pure rage as he suddenly lashes out at Tim with a high kick, clipping his chin as Tim moves out of the way just in time to avoid either a broken jaw, a crushed nose or a bloody mouth. 

He doesn’t manage to dodge Damian’s fist when he strikes for a second time though, making a crunching sound when it connects with Tim’s nose, making him stumble backwards. 

Tim retaliates by punching Damian in the face and bruising his cheek. Damian bares his teeth and snarls as he lunges at Tim, faster than Tim remembers, knocking him to the ground and landing right on top of him, one hand wrapped around Tim’s neck, the other holding an escrima stick to his throat. 

“Robin has done _nothing_ to you,” Damian hisses, and he looks murderous, even as Tim quickly pulls one of his guns out of its holster and holds it to Damian’s head. “Stay away from him or I’ll break every damn bone in your miserable body.” Tim laughs at him, puts the gun away and sets his hands on Damian’s thighs, feeling the muscles twitch under his fingertips as Damian tenses up in surprise. 

If Tim wanted to, he could roll them over and pull Damian’s thighs apart, could easily peel the armoured spandex off Damian’s skin and slide right into his hot, wet cunt. But that’s not what he’s been planning, so he won’t do it, as tempting as the thought might be. 

Instead, he settles for growling up at Damian, who growls right back, lower and much more intimidating than that of most alphas. “I mean it, Hood,” Damian says, glaring at him. “He’s done nothing wrong.”

“Really?” Tim says, narrowing his eyes. “He’s done _nothing?_ So he’s _not_ the one who Batman plucked up off a street corner and stole my place while the dirt on my grave was still fresh?”

“Hood,” Damian starts to interrupt him, but Tim carries on. 

“He’s not the one who somehow managed to get your approval without even trying just because you felt bad that you didn’t try with me? That you only tried after about four months of giving me the cold shoulder and yelling that I wasn’t worthy of taking on your mantle?” Tim needles, and Damian’s eyes narrow through the lenses of his mask as he leans in close enough that their noses could touch if Tim were to lift his head up a little. 

“I regret that I did not welcome you, and apologise for the way I treated you before you died. But if you’re looking for my approval _now_ , you won’t be getting it anytime soon. Not after what you’ve done,” Damian sneers at him, and then his face darkens as he remembers just _how_ Tim touched his precious little Jason. 

Tim takes the opportunity while he’s distracted to reach into one of his hidden jacket pockets for a syringe and jabs it into Damian’s upper neck, where his skin is unprotected and vulnerable. 

Damian barely winces as he leans back, hurriedly pulling the emptied syringe out of his neck to inspect the few droplets of liquid still inside it, then shoves it in Tim’s face. “What is this? What have you injected me with?” He snarls, but his voice comes out slower, a little raspy, and he’s clearly panicking about it. 

Tim smiles sweetly up at him. “Just a little sedative to get your muscles nice and relaxed for me.” Tim won’t be mentioning just how strong said sedative is. He shoves Damian in the chest and he very nearly topples over onto his back, clinging to Tim’s jacket to keep his balance. 

“ _Why?_ ” Damian starts, but then he starts to wobble, falling to his hands and knees as Tim slides out from underneath his heavy body and rises to a crouch in front of him, crooking his finger underneath Damian’s chin to tilt it up and bare his throat. Tim has to fight the urge to bite into it right now, to stand up and get his cock out to come on Damian’s face and then piss all over him to mark his territory. 

Tim ends up deciding against it. He wouldn’t want anyone else to see Damian like that, because he’s going to be _Tim’s_ omega now, at least for the foreseeable future, and no one else has the right to see him like that, helpless and debauched and utterly _ruined._

“Come on, Nightwing, I thought you were quicker than that,” Tim says, watching Damian struggle to focus on him as his blinks start to become slower, eyes shutting for longer each time. “I don’t want Robin. The only reason I went to him first is because I knew it would bring you to me.” He taps Damian on the nose. 

“You’re the one I want,” Tim finishes with a smile, reaching out to carefully peel off Damian’s scent blocker from his neck, and closes his eyes as he breathes in Damian’s scent, lavender and cardamom seeds, spicy and citrusy with a few sweet undertones. 

Tim leans back, nose full of Damian’s scent, and smiles at him as he tries his best to keep his eyes open. “Have a nice nap,” he says, then applies a little pressure with the tip of his finger to Damian’s forehead, watching him fall flat on his back, unconscious. 

Tim stares down at Damian for a moment, taking in his lax face and slightly parted lips before plucking his helmet up off the ground and heaving Damian into his arms. Damian is both taller and heavier than him, so it takes Tim some time and a lot of effort to drag him along to his safe house which he’s ensured no one knows the location of. 

Tim quickly deactivates his security and pulls Damian inside, locking the door behind them. He readjusts his arms slung underneath Damian’s and drapes them over his chest, dragging him to the room he’s been painstakingly preparing for months. 

Once they’re through the door, Tim just drops Damian’s body on the floor and wipes a few beads of sweat off his forehead as he pushes Damian to lean against the wall, then walks across the room to a cupboard. He runs his fingers along the side of it until he finds the hidden panel and enters the code for it to unlock, then pulls open the drawers to reveal his tools and equipment for what he’s going to be doing today. 

Then he glances over at Damian to make sure he’s not woken up yet, and walks over to the large table in the middle of the room, setting down a pair of cuffs, a closed syringe containing a yellowish liquid and two long lengths of strong rope. 

Tim makes his way over to Damian, breathing in deep and slow to calm himself down so he doesn’t end up accidentally doing something stupid out of excitement before hooking his hands underneath Damian’s armpits and pulling him over to the table, barely managing to heave him onto it and then nearly falling on top of him. 

He quickly rights himself and pulls Damian’s boots off, then starts to disable all of the traps on Damian’s uniform, unhooking all the latches with easy familiarity, almost as if it’s his _own_ uniform, and not just because he’s been watching Damian take it off for months through security cameras in his apartment and the showers back at the Cave. 

His cock twitches in his pants at the mere _memory_ of seeing Damian wet and completely naked in the shower, rivulets of water trailing down his spine, over the curve of his round ass and clinging to his strong thighs, thighs that Tim will find himself between in not too long now. 

Tim’s throat feels dry as he reaches up and slowly pulls the hidden zip down, eyes drawn to the line of scarred skin being revealed from Damian’s throat down to just below his navel. His hands shake with anticipation as he pulls the uniform down off Damian’s shoulders, not stopping until he’s hunched over between Damian’s legs, uniform tangled around his ankles, unable to fight back against the urge to smell Damian’s cunt and little cocklet through his black briefs. 

Internally reprimanding himself for getting distracted from the matter at hand, Tim quickly finishes undressing Damian, ridding him of his gloves, mask and underwear too. And then it’s just Damian, completely bare, spread out for him on the table. 

Tim reaches for the syringe and uncaps it, then jabs the needle into the meat of Damian’s upper thigh before disposing of it and quickly returning to Damian. He then picks up the cuffs and clicks them shut around Damian’s wrists, hooking the chains which dangle from the ceiling through the loops in each cuff and latching them to the table, tightening them until he’s sure that Damian won’t be able to get out, not even by dislocating his thumbs. 

Damian’s skin is already hot to the touch as Tim grabs a piece of rope and bends his legs back until they’re drawn up tight against his torso, and ties them up like that so that Tim can see his cute little pussy, so _pink_ and already giving off the scent of sweet slick and heat and the _need_ to be mated. 

He has to physically walk away to stop himself from giving in to the urge to just _take_ Damian on the table, reminding himself that if he fucks Damian while he’s still asleep, he won’t be able to watch the horrified expressions playing out across Damian’s face, won’t be able to see tears shining in his eyes or hear him sobbing, _begging_ for Tim to stop. 

It’s as he’s putting his helmet away and starting to unzip his jacket that Tim hears the sharp intake of breath, and turns with a smile on his face to see Damian trying to blink away the lingering effects of the sedative, eyes hazy as they focus on Tim and then narrow. 

“What is this?” Damian demands, still slurring a little as he yanks at his chains. “Why am I _unclothed_ and tied to a table in this — this _position_ in what is undoubtedly one of your filthy safe houses?” Tim loves the way Damian tenses up as he moves closer, but he loves the flush starting to rise in Damian’s cheeks even more as Tim grabs one of his ankles and trails his fingers up the arch of Damian’s foot. 

“Come on, Damian, you’re smart,” he says as he peels off his own mask. “Why do you think I have you here, like _this?_ ” Damian tries to jerk away from Tim when he takes hold of his chin, snapping his teeth at Tim’s thumb like a cornered, rabid animal, which Tim thinks is quite disrespectful. 

So he smacks Damian across the face. 

The force of his slap splits Damian’s bottom lip, leaving his mouth bloody, and Tim is tempted to lean in and lick up the trail of redness trickling down his chin. Damian looks even more furious than before, and his cheek looks a little pink so Tim gives it a gentle pat before digging his fingers into Damian’s chin, disappointed when he doesn’t even wince, but just carries on glaring at Tim. 

“Let’s try that again, shall we?” Tim suggests, voice soft, and Damian’s jaw tightens as he turns his face away while Tim pulls his undershirt over his head. “Why _are_ you here, Damian?”

“Tactical advantage,” Damian snarls, baring his bloodied teeth. “I have no armour, no weapons, no protection, my movement is restricted. I am in an unknown location with limited resources and probably no allies.” His glare becomes even fiercer. “ _You_ have the upper hand now.” 

“You’re _definitely_ Bruce’s son, always thinking about fighting and tactical advantage and whatnot,” Tim sighs, staring down at Damian. “But no. You’re wrong.” His smile turns into a smirk as he starts to stroke Damian’s cheek. “Is the temperature okay for you in here?”

“Not that you _care_ , but it feels as hot as it did when I was still staying with my mother,” Damian snaps, sweat beading across his forehead and in the dip of his collarbones, trying to wipe his pink cheek on his arm as he licks his lips. “Aren’t you boiling in all that, and with no windows?” Damian asks him, frowning. 

And then realisation dawns upon him as Tim shows him the empty syringe, tapping the side of it as his smirk widens. “I’m fine actually. It’s just you.”

“You induced my heat,” Damian says quietly, almost to himself, and then repeats it a little louder, face growing dark and somber before he lets out a ferocious growl and suddenly tries to lunge at Tim, only held back by the chains and rope tying him down. 

“When I get out of these, I’m going to _tear you apart_ and make sure that even a Lazarus Pit won’t be able to bring you back,” Damian hisses at him, the perfect image of pure _rage_. 

“If you get out of these,” Tim corrects him, but that just makes Damian look even angrier. “But well done, Damian. Very smart.” Tim very generously ignores the way Damian reddens at being praised by him. “Aren’t you a little curious as to why I induced your heat?”

“Trust me, I can guess _why_ , you filthy _pervert_ ,” Damian answers, looking like he wants to murder Tim. 

“I thought I’d repay a little favour to Ra’s, you know?” Tim tells him as he starts to pace back and forth, taking in the way that Damian stiffens and starts to look just a little confused. “I mean, he fixed my head up, gave me a whole new life, set me up with all the money and weapons and people I could ever need. And _you_ , you were meant for something else, weren’t you?”

Damian stiffens, staring up at him with wide eyes. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, Damian,” Tim says, frowning. “I know all about how if you hadn’t been able to win the fight between you and your mom to meet Bruce, you would’ve just been passed around to all of his men, a bitch in heat for them to take turns fucking until one of them eventually knocked you up and provided Ra’s with his new heir.”

Damian’s face reddens in both anger and embarrassment with each word that comes out of Tim’s mouth, and Tim is thankful that he’s been restrained. “And of course, you spoiled _that_ when you decided to come and stay in Gotham with your dad, so _naturally_ I thought I’d pay Ra’s back for everything he’s done for me by doing him a favour and taking you for myself.”

Damian’s face goes pale just as quickly as it had turned red, and he almost looks sickly. “ _No_. You don’t — we can _help_ you, Dra — _Timothy_. You don’t have to do this.”

Tim clicks his tongue at him, disappointed. “Why are you pretending you don’t want this?” The crease between Damian’s eyebrows deepens. 

“You’re bigger than me, older than me, more _experienced_ than me,” Tim explains, counting the points off on his fingers. “And yet I overpowered you. Because you _wanted_ me to. It’s in your biology, Damian. The omega inside you saw an alpha and insisted that you surrender and _submit_. So you did.”

“No,” Damian protests weakly, closing his eyes, but Tim can smell him growing even wetter, can see his pathetic little cocklet twitch against his belly. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Tim growls, unable to hold back his feral instincts for much longer. “If you really didn’t want this, you wouldn’t have gotten yourself trapped here in the first place.”

“So now, I’m going to breed you like the bitch you are, and trust me, no one is going to swoop in to _save_ you, or to find you before I’m done with you, because we’re not going to stay here forever. I mean, give me _some_ credit, I’m not an idiot,” Tim assures him, watching as Damian screws his eyes shut, shaking his head like it’s just a bad dream, a nightmare that he’ll wake up from soon enough. 

Well, if that’s the case, Tim has news for him. “Don’t worry. I’ll give you food and water and I’ll handle your needs. But other than that, you’re going to be stuck on my knot the whole time until you get pregnant, and you’ll _still_ be stuck on it, probably _begging_ for it like a little _slut_ while you’re pregnant, and then you’ll give me my pups. And _maybe_ I’ll consider letting you go after that.”

Damian snarls at him, baring his teeth, but Tim can tell that it’s all just false bravado. He makes a show of wrinkling his nose as Tim comes closer, shutting his eyes. 

Tim knows that it’s some sort of an attempt to distract him, but decides to humour Damian anyway, lips twitching into a tiny smile. “Ugh, Drake, you _stink_ , and your hair is all greasy. When’s the last time you had a shower?”

Tim comes to a stop, smile falling right off his face as his lips thin. “I shower when I deem it necessary.” 

Damian scoffs, screwing his face up. “And how often is that? Once a year? On special occasions?”

“Once a _month_ , actually.”

Damian gags, turning his face away. “You’re disgusting,” he spits at Tim, who isn’t at all offended, and just shrugs at him. He knows he’s gross, but he doesn’t really care. “I can’t even smell your _actual scent_ underneath all that body odour.”

Tim grins sharply at him, and thanks to the fact that he removed Damian’s scent blocker earlier, he can smell the sudden swell of alarm and sour anxiety rolling off Damian’s body, and he _loves_ it. 

“Oh, there’s no need to worry about that, Damian,” he says, eyes following the movement of Damian’s throat when he swallows. “By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be covered in it so well that you’ll have forgotten your own scent, and will only want for mine. My scent, my _come._ ”

Damian scrunches his nose up at that, but shudders beautifully when Tim places a hand on his bared throat, digging his fingers into Damian’s scent glands. “And soon you’ll have my mark too. _My_ claiming bite.”

Damian freezes at that, glaring at him, even as his eyes start to glaze over when Tim squeezes the back of his neck hard. “I am _not_ going to be your mate,” he tries his best to hiss, and Tim just carries on smiling at him, breathing in the sweet scent of Damian’s growing arousal at the thought of Tim taking him. 

“Yet,” he corrects, just to see the way Damian flinches away from him, jaw clenching even as his cheeks start to turn a lovely shade of pink. 

“I won’t accept you,” Damian still insists as Tim ducks his head to bury his nose in Damian’s neck and inhales his scent, then he seals his mouth over Damian’s sensitive scent glands. Damian jerks underneath him, then renews his struggles, going so far as to let out a distressed whine, something which would naturally appeal to an alpha’s protective instincts. 

It works. Kind of. Tim’s instincts tell him to crawl between the omega’s legs and shove his knot inside him, to sink his teeth into Damian’s neck until he submits and is completely limp beneath him, until the coppery tang of blood bursts over his tongue and his omega is purring into his chest, belly swollen and full of his seed.

And Tim tends to follow his instincts, so it’s no surprise that he ends up crawling up onto the table and trying to push Damian’s thighs further apart. Damian tries to get away even though there’s literally nothing he can do, yanking at his chains and wriggling on the table. It just makes Tim want to knot him even more. 

“Drake, you don’t have to — _ngh_ ,” Damian cuts himself off with a groan as Tim slides two fingers into his slick cunt, chains still clinking as he clenches his hands into fists. 

“You don’t have to do this,” he tries again, sounding like he’s being strangled, and Tim pulls his fingers out and shoves them into his mouth instead to shut him up, watching hungrily as Damian eagerly sucks them into his mouth and curls his tongue around them, his own slick shining on his lips. 

“I know I don’t have to do this. I don’t _have_ to do _anything_ ,” Tim answers him, and Damian looks a little wary. “But I _really_ want to.” And then he unzips his trousers, pulls his cock out and thrusts into Damian, who inhales sharply around his fingers, whining breathlessly. 

And _God_ , it’s even better than Tim had ever dreamed of, hot and wet and tight, Damian’s cunt practically _sucking_ his cock in like it doesn’t want to let Tim go. Tim has to take a moment to just breathe, fitting his nose into the crook of Damian’s neck and inhaling as his scent becomes even heavier, thick in the air and so cloyingly sweet that Tim can almost _taste_ it. 

Eventually he starts to move his hips, growling into Damian’s neck and nosing at his swollen scent glands. Damian’s still trying to glare at him, quite the picture as he drools around Tim’s fingers, mouth swollen and as pink as the furious blush on his cheeks. 

He reaches a hand up to squeeze one of Damian’s tits, nipples puffy and already starting to bead with milk, a sign that he’s a fertile omega in heat. Damian lets out a pathetic little whimper when milk starts to spurt out over Tim’s fingers as he leans in to lap at the excess spilling over Damian’s skin, then closes his mouth around his nipple and sucks until milk squirts into his mouth, _much_ sweeter coming straight from the source than it is mixed with the salty tang of sweat from Damian’s skin. 

Damian lets out a low moan as Tim’s teeth scrape over his nipple, fingers massaging his breast to coax more milk out until Tim has nearly sucked his tit dry. He has to force himself to stop and pull back so he can look Damian in the eye as he traces a finger over the trail of shining dampness surrounding his nipple and trickling down his chest to his stomach. 

“Once I’ve gotten you all knocked up with my pups, you’re going to be _leaking_ milk all the time, and God, I’ll try my best to suck you dry.” Damian lets out a helpless little whine as Tim fucks into him even harder, faster, his chest falling and rising rapidly. 

“But you’re going to be such an eager little _slut_ for my knot that your tits will always be _full_ of milk,” Tim snarls into his neck, groping at his chest and mouthing over his swollen mating gland, making Damian’s hips jerk up against his as he reflexively clenches around Tim’s cock. 

Tim knows his mouth must be hanging open as he pulls his wet fingers out from between Damian’s parted lips and gives the head of his cocklet a curious little tap, leaving it bobbing and dribbling precome all over his stomach before moving his spit-slick fingers between Damian’s legs to rub at the crease of his ass, circling his hole and then pushing a finger inside him.

Damian tenses up, unbearably tight around Tim’s finger before he tries to relax, eyes wetting as he bites down on his bottom lip hard enough for blood to start beading from it again. Tim forces another dry finger into Damian’s hole, wanting to see tears rolling down his cheeks. 

Tim can feel his knot start to form at the base of his cock, and Damian must feel it too as Tim tries his best to push further into his cunt, because his eyes widen and he starts to shake his head, but Tim doesn’t take any notice of it. 

“Stop, _no_ ,” he cries, sounding panicked as Tim’s thrusts become choppier, less controlled as he finally comes inside Damian, forcing his knot inside him with a low, possessive growl as he sinks his teeth into Damian’s mating gland, blood spilling onto his tongue. 

Damian gasps wetly and arches up into his body, his cunt squeezing tight and milking Tim’s cock for all it’s worth as his little cocklet spurts out come all over his belly. Tim feels a little scent drunk, swaying as his hips carry on moving in jerky little thrusts and he finally pulls away from Damian’s bleeding neck, lapping up the trail of redness and licking over the wound. 

Damian is shivering underneath him, pulse beating rapidly under his lips, so Tim _stupidly_ makes the mistake of thinking that he _has_ him, that Damian is subdued. For a while, he manages to forget just how _stubborn_ Damian can be, and floats in a little bubble of bliss and satisfaction, his cock encased in tight, wet heat, doing Damian a favour by slowly pulling his fingers out from where they were buried in his ass. 

And then he’s crying out as Damian’s head connects with his chin and teeth are sinking into his shoulder, sharp and painful. Damian refuses to let go of him, growling threateningly around his mouthful of Tim’s flesh, so Tim has to grab his hair and _yank,_ cracking his head back onto the table. 

Damian looks momentarily dazed before he shakes it off, raising his chin in defiance as he spits at him, blood splattering across Tim’s face. Tim ignores the stinging and dull ache of his bite and instead just blinks at him as he bares his teeth in a manic snarl, painted red with Tim’s blood. 

“I _hate_ you,” he hisses, glaring at Tim. “And I will _never_ accept you as my mate.” 

Tim grabs his right hand and holds it in his own, playing with Damian’s fingers for a moment before breaking his little finger. Followed by his ring finger, and then his middle finger. Damian does little more in reaction than press his lips together in a thin line, but his eye twitches when Tim intentionally squeezes his hand, putting pressure on his broken fingers. 

Ignoring what Damian has just said for now, Tim flicks the head of his cocklet, smiling when it gets Damian to choke on his own breath and buck up into his touch. “What use is this on you when it doesn’t even have a purpose?” Tim asks, casually trailing his fingers up the underside as lightly as a feather.

His hand wraps around it — well, with how small it is, it’s more like three of his fingers, and going by the angry flush spreading across Damian’s cheeks, he can tell _exactly_ what Tim is thinking — and he digs his thumb into the slit on the head, smearing wetness over it. 

Damian’s biting his lip when Tim looks back up at him with a frown. “It’s so tiny that if you tried to fuck someone, they wouldn’t even feel it inside them. If I tried to suck it, that wouldn’t even be a challenge for me.” Damian’s beet red now, avoiding Tim’s eyes. 

“All you need to be a _good_ omega is a warm, wet cunt.” He pauses for effect, watching Damian’s eyes dart to his and his face turning pale as he realises what Tim is about to say. “So I ought to just get rid of it.”

Damian swallows thickly, and Tim’s eyes are drawn to the movement of his throat, feeling the urge to bite into it again. But as his knot is starting to go down, he’s thought of something else he could do to assert his claim on Damian, since _apparently_ , a mating bite isn’t enough for him. 

So as soon as his knot has fully gone down, Tim pulls out of Damian with a filthy squelch, clambering off the table to walk around it until he’s stood right behind Damian’s head, where Damian would only be able to see him if he strains his neck far enough. Then he climbs back on until he’s hovering above Damian’s face, and slaps his cheek with his dick. 

Damian’s mouth opens in shock, and Tim takes the opportunity to shove his cock past Damian’s parted lips, moaning at the feeling of soft, wet heat around his cock. He massages his stomach and presses down on his full bladder until he’s letting go in Damian’s mouth and making him choke on it, piss dribbling out the corner of his mouth. 

Damian splutters as Tim pulls his cock out of his mouth to continue spraying piss all over his face, on his cheeks, into his lashes, and Tim can’t tell if the heat in his cheeks is from anger or embarrassment at being so _degraded_. 

“Swallow,” Tim commands softly, digging his fingers into the pressure points underneath Damian’s jaw while pinching his nose and tilting his head back, leaving him no choice but to do as Tim says or to choke on his piss. 

Damian’s lashes are long and damp and spiked, his cheeks are wet with tears and sweat and Tim’s piss, and he looks _thoroughly_ debauched. Tim’s quite proud of himself for reducing Damian to nothing more than what he is and always will be — a needy little _whore_ , hungry for cock. 

“You’re going to be with me for at least nine months, if not longer,” Tim reminds him as he climbs back off the table and starts to pull his clothes back on, righting himself. “You already have my mating bite and my seed in your belly, but since _that_ didn’t seem to convince you, I thought I’d mark my territory in another way. One that’ll teach everyone else a lesson, a lesson that you’ll learn in time too.”

He zips his jacket back up and makes his way to the door, turning once he’s in the doorway to look back at Damian, who’s staring after him with fury burning in his eyes. “That you’re _mine_ now, so you might as well get comfortable in that position. Because I’m not letting you go anytime soon.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed!!


End file.
